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Flaming Nipples of Prometheus!

September 20, 2010

According to Greek mythology, Prometheus was a Titan, a powerful deity who was a champion of humans and may or may not have fashioned man out of clay. As a benefactor for mankind, he stole fire from Zeus and gave it to mortals. For his crime he was chained to a rock where an eagle feasted on his liver daily, only to have the organ regenerate for the eagle to eat again and again.

Small price to pay for stealing fire from Zeus, I think. Better he should have had his nipples chafed doing hard exercise.

Happened to me Saturday morning. I should have known better. Although I started walking before sunrise, temperatures were probably nearly 80 by the time I finished walking 16 miles at approximately 10 a.m. I was drenched with sweat. I looked like a drowned rat who peed his pants.

And my nipples were on fire. I’d forgotten to apply Body Glide, a product designed to minimize chafing. Nip Guards is another product. These are rectangle-shaped covers for your nipples. Under a tight shirt, these things make you look like you have a nipple-related birth defect. Plus, as you’ll read in a moment, anything that is required to stick to my body doesn’t so much work.

Suffice it to say, Body Glide is especially beneficial for larger people. To be honest, though, my 58-pound weight loss has meant a little less friction in certain sensitive areas, like my thighs, the sides of my torso, or my nipples.

Until Saturday. I’d sort of prepared, mind you. On Friday night, I’d walked seven miles. Although they weren’t in full-on screaming fire, I knew my nips were a little tender. I covered them with Band-Aids on Saturday morning. Seriously, though, it was a Band-Aid solution to a much larger problem. A Band-Aid only works on the premise that the thing will stick to your skin. Nothing sticks to skin flowing with sweat.

I was not, in any way, properly protected. I could feel that. Burning your finger on a hot pan, scalding yourself with steam from an iron and fabric constantly rubbing against your nips for almost four hours have one thing in common: it hurts dammit! I pulled at my moisture-wicking technical shirt in a vain effort to keep the fabric from rubbing. It didn’t work. Plus, I’m sure I looked a little extra freakish walking through the woods like Herman Munster on a mission.

It could have been worse, though. Nine years ago, when I first started running, I was in a 10K race out in East Knox County. I got nipple burn so bad they started bleeding. I was wearing a white shirt. Near the end of the race I heard my coach, a lovely woman named Corrine, scream, “Go number 11.” Think about that!

Next time, Body Glide. Lot of Body Glide.

And Flaming Nipples of Prometheus would be a great name for a band, don’t you think?

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From → Fitness, Weight Loss

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